


it comes at night

by eatjamfast



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Biting, Blood Drinking, Edgeplay, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Fem Lance, Fem Shiro, Fingerfucking, Lesbian Sex, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-05-01 15:45:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14523906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eatjamfast/pseuds/eatjamfast
Summary: “I think you do,” Shiro said quietly, flinching when Lance shuffled up the settee towards her.“You might have to spell it out for me because what I'm thinking is super dumb. There is no way that you have pictures of yourself from a hundred years ago without being – being – ”“Say it. Out loud.” Shiro had her teeth gritted, a hard set to her jaw.“Oh, my god – you're kidding me."





	it comes at night

**Author's Note:**

> it COMES at night.  
> this is just vampire porn.

Lance noticed something strange about the chick she was dating.

For one, they _only_ met at night. She took Lance for food, but never ate with her. She spoke with a faint accent that Lance couldn't quite place, like she'd gone to some fancy fuckoff public school and always dressed like she belonged in a nineteens goth club – all black and _always_ some kind of leather hanging off her ridiculously decked body.

They'd met purely by chance, in a completely mundane scenario wherein her buddy Keith was having a house party and Lance couldn't help but notice the weird broody hot girl sipping at a glass of wine in the corner. Lance didn't even know where she'd found wine because last time she checked, Keith only stocked up on hard liqueur and tinnies.

So as she watched the woman opposite her now, fidgeting nervously where she sat on the very edge of the sofa as far away from Lance as possible, she wondered if she was gonna get an answer for why Shiro was such a strange person. She figured she was just into some freaky emo shit, but as she looked around the living room of the house she'd never been invited to, she was beginning to think she was off. Way off.

Countless pictures hung on the walls; of Shiro in places and clothes that looked super old. The one that caught Lance's eye though, that made her the most shocked was a small framed photograph on the wall next the the arm of the sofa. It was of Shiro stood solemnly in the front of the Eiffel Tower. Only it was half-built and blurry in the grainy monotone. She had to squint to pick it out behind her, but it was definitely what she thought it was.

She looked closer at the other pictures after that, ones of Shiro in some traditional and seriously old-fashioned Japanese clothing, ones of her stood next to antiquated cars and then there were more modern photographs, of her in front of every famous monument of every country Lance could think of.

It couldn't be Shiro, right? It must be some strikingly similar-looking ancestors of her's. Must be a hobby to collect old family pictures. Must be _anything_ other than the crazy thoughts that were racing through Lance's head.

“Are those of your family?” Lance asked finally, when she couldn't stand the silence between them any more. She gestured to the photographs with a nervous smile.

“No.”

“Um. Okay,” Lance mumbled, and they lapsed into an oppressive quiet once again.

Shiro sighed after a few minutes has passed, and finally met Lance's eyes with a serious gaze. “They are all pictures of me,” she said.

“You big into re-enactment, then? That's cool 'cause we have that Civil War march thing in summer where people dress up and – ”

“It is not re-enactment. Some of these pictures are over a century old.”

“Right,” Lance said, drawing the word out. “I'm not sure what you're tying to say here, babe.” Which was bullshit because she knew _exactly_ what Shiro was trying to say.

“I think you do,” Shiro said quietly, flinching when Lance shuffled up the settee towards her.

“You might have to spell it out for me because what I'm thinking is super dumb. There is no way that you have pictures of yourself from a hundred years ago without being – being – ”

“Say it. Out loud.” Shiro had her teeth gritted, a hard set to her jaw.

“Oh, my god – you're kidding me,” Lance blurted out, wide-eyed.

“Excuse me?” Shiro asked incredulously.

“You don't even – _wow_. Okay. You don't even know you're quoting twilight right now do you?” Lance said.

“ _What_?”

“ 'Aight, Edward, calm down,” she chortled, patting Shiro's sympathetically. God, no wonder the chick seemed to be completely in the wrong time.

“I'm literally about to reveal a supernatural truth to you and you're bringing up Twilight right now?” Shiro said. She was pouting for fuck's sake, and Lance couldn't handle how stupid this entire situation was. In the many times she'd, admittedly, fantasised about what she'd do if she met a vampire or a ghost or a werewolf or some other kind of creepy under-the-bed type monster, she thought she'd have a pretty strong fight or flight response. But with Shiro's upper lip jutting out in that childlike strop she mostly just felt like laughing and kissing her dumb face.

“Yah, yah, whatever man, you're a vampire, I get it,” Lance said in lieu of the laughter and kisses, which she then realised was a mistake because the puppy-eyes and pout increased tenfold.

“Do you? Do you _get it_?” Shiro said, throwing her hands up in exasperation.

“Pointy teeth, aversion to sunlight, may possibly go into anaphylaxis when you smell garlic, am I missing anything?”

“No,” Shiro mumbled.

Lance gasped, delighted. “Woah, seriously? _Garlic_?”

“I would never joke about my allergies,” Shiro said seriously and _oh God,_ Lance was having a field day with all this intel.

“Oh, fuck me! That's actually amazing!” Lance laughed because there didn't seem to be any other appropriate reaction.

“Please don't make fun on my allergies.”

“You have _more_?!”

“ _Lance_.”

“What! I'm just curious!” Lance protested, twining their fingers together to take edge off Shiro's embarrassment.

“Can we just drop this?” Shiro said, eyes downcast. If she could blush, Lance knew she would be.

“Drop the vampire thing, or the bit where you're a total nerd who gets the sniffles if someone opens a bag of peanuts around you?” Lance said.

“I changed my mind. I don't want to date you any more.”

Lance grinned. “First of all, _rude_. Second of all, what were you _hoping_ I'd react like?”

“I'm not sure,” Shiro said, shifting her thumb on the back of Lance's hand gently. “I thought you would be scared.”

“Shiro,” Lance said, deadpan, “You may be built like a brick shithouse but the last thing you are is scary.”

“First of all, _rude_ ,” Shiro mimicked, “Second of all, normal people would be scared if they found out vampires are real.”

“Honey. Babe. _Shiro_. I for real saw you ask for extra-extra-extra syrup in your latte last night, like you aren't sweet enough already,” Lance said, ducking to try and catch her gaze.

Shiro looked up at her finally, but ignored her comment and puffed up a bit, “What if I'm only telling you this because I'm going to eat you?”

Lance waggled his eyebrows. “I'd sure like you to.”

“You're incorrigible!” Shiro sputtered, shoving her away with a little too much strength.

“I've donated blood before, though,” Lance said casually, and Shiro's dark eyes burned. “So I don't mind giving to charity.”

“Don't be mean!” Shiro exclaimed, but she was laughing.

“Treat 'em mean keep 'em keen,” Lance shrugged. “Although, I wouldn't mind you chowing down on me sometimes. I know I'm a total snack.”

Shiro looked confused. “What does that even _mean_?”

“Please get Twitter, Shiro,” Lance rolled her eyes, “Get with the times.”

“I'm perfectly fine,” Shiro sniffed. “I have a MySpace and everything.”

“Please tell me you're joking,” Lance said flatly.

“No...?”

“Oh, sweet Lord – what's your picture like?”

“It's of Cordelia.”

“Your _cat_? What are you, a forty year old spinster? Where are you hiding the box wine?” Lance burst out.

“No, I'm a _three hundred year old_ spinster, and I drink mature reds in _bottles,”_ Shiro said, smiling widely. 

Lance's brain blanked out for a hot second because – what the fuck?

“ _Three hundred_?!”

“Yes,” Shiro said, clearly smug about the tables being turned. Lance couldn't even think of a funny comment because her mam would _kill_ her. Sure she had a thing for older women, but this was excessive. 

“You don't look a day over twenty-five,” was all Lance could manage. Maybe playing the banter game with someone who had two-hundred and eighty odd years on her wasn't going to work after all.

“I got turned when I was nineteen, but thank you,” Shiro said.

“Are you joking?” Lance said, head spinning. Shiro flushed with pleasure at the praise before Lance had finished talking, “Why do you look so _old_?”

“Shorter lifespans back in the day. We aged faster.”

“That's really not a _Thing_ ,” Lance squinted at her.

Shiro raised her brows, shrugging. “You try living in a Japanese mountain village in the 1700s then get back to me about how many wrinkles you have.”

Lance couldn't argue with that, honestly. She leaned in, eyes bright and curious. “When did you move to England?”

“After the second world war,” Shiro said patiently.

“Woah,” Lance breathed. “Why the hell would you come to this bumfuck-nowhere-town when there's so many cities here?”

“I like the quiet,” Shiro smiled.

That was probably to be expected. Shiro had been here for a long time, had probably dabbled in all there was to see across this tiny island. Lance still couldn't get a handle on it though, because she'd love nothing more than to escape to somewhere more interesting and didn't understand why Shiro wouldn't use her vampiric prowess or whatever to do just that.

“You're a vampire,” Lance said slowly. “You could travel the world, get anything you wanted. And you moved to the Yorkshire moors.”

“It's pretty here,” Shiro said softly. “The people are friendly. It kind of reminds me at home – minus the paddies. But I like the rapeseed fields just the same, they're lovely.”

“I thought you had allergies? Don't they give you hayfever?” Lance frowned, thinking back to her teenage years where she'd load up her body with antihistamines to combat those little yellow flowers that the local farmers insisted on growing in the field right next door to her house.

“Yes,” Shiro conceded. “But I still like them.”

“Wait, you actually get hayfever?” Lance said, biting her lip against a laugh.

“Vampires have a very sensitive sense of smell!” Shiro said defensively.

“You're so fucking cute, you know that?” Lance smiled, drawing Shiro's other hand against her's.

“I'm not cute,” Shiro ground out, but her hands were gentle in Lance's, “I'm a fearsome creature of the night.”

“Okay, you big scary vampire,” Lance said quietly, shifting closer. “Prove it.”

Suddenly those stormy grey eyes were burning again, flaring up the heat in the Lance's cheeks at their intensity. Fuck, no matter how much of a spooky geek the girl was, she was so _hot_. It should be illegal to look the way she did. Lance couldn't help but delight in that stark juxtaposition, though. The fact she looked like someone who'd come out of a fight without so much of a scratch on her, but had a heart of gold and would probably never fight someone in the first place – as far as Lance knew, anyway. She didn't have a whole lot to go on, given how secretive Shiro was about herself.

Shiro hesitated just a little when she reached out to cup Lance's jaw with a heart-warming tenderness, so aware of the impossible strength she had yet touched Lance so gently. Their heads tipped towards each other, nosing at cheeks before Lance plucked up the courage to cross the giant tiny space between their lips and just kiss her.

It was a simple, chaste thing, barely any pressure but it was wonderful nonetheless.

Shiro inhaled deeply when they pulled apart, a small smile gracing her face which Lance couldn't help but press a quick peck to.

They'd kissed before, sure. Had some pretty heated makeout sessions on Lance's couch but this kiss felt special. It was the aftermath of a secret, and the promise that it would stay one. It was a testament of surety, and a reminder that no matter how many lifetimes Shiro had lived or would ever live, Lance was there to say ' _you'll remember me for all of them_ '.

Leaning into Shiro's chest a little heavier, she slotted their mouths together again and carded her fingers through that soft shock of white hair, dragging her nails against Shiro's scalp rhythmically, comfortingly. She swiped her tongue against the fullness of Shiro's bottom lip, the slide of their mouths a little slicker but no less sweet.

“Was this why you were holdin' out on me?” Lance breathed into her, dragging her hand down Shiro's torso until she could squeeze at the hard muscle of her thigh.

“It all gets a bit obvious when things get intense,” Shiro admitted. “What with the teeth and all.”

The thought sent heat curling low and hungry through her gut and Lance brushed her thumb over Shiro's lips as she whispered, “Can I see them?”

“If you carry on kissing me, you definitely will,” Shiro murmured, pecking a silly kiss to the pad of her thumb before she swung her legs over Lance's, situating herself so she was straddling Lance's thighs without pressing her full weight onto him. Ever the courteous lady. Also probably a good call because she weighed, like, _twice_ what Lance did in pure muscle alone.

Lance grinned into the next wave of kisses, flicking her tongue out temptingly and curling her fingers over the softness of muscle on Shiro's hips, brushing them over the jut of her hip bones and delighting in the way her stomach twitched inwards at the sensation.

Shiro's hands sneaked under the threadbare tee Lance was wearing until she could brush her clever fingers over her nipples, drawing an aborted moan from Lance and she did it again until she was arching under him, sensitised and filled with a strange excitement for the things that were no doubt to come – namely those involving very sharp teeth, and her neck.

Their tongues curled, their lips slipped against one another messily, something as essential as breathing shoved to the back of Lance's mind in favour of being _closer_. And every time she managed to drag in air, it was pushed out of her again on a low groan, helpless up against the way Shiro was touching her and kissing her and groaning in response.

Just when Lance was about to fucking get on her knees and beg for it, Shiro ripped her mouth away, placing a hand on Lance's chest when she haplessly tried to follow after her. Her chest was heaving, and her other hand has been slapped firmly over her mouth.

Lance's eyes softened, and she reached up to tug it away carefully, letting her fingers fall to the sharp angle of Shiro's jawline to tilt her head back to face her.

Shiro's dark eyes were blown out, lidded, and Lance sighed at the sight of it. Letting her lips part the barest inch, Lance saw a flash of pearly white that glinted dangerously in the low light of the room.

Her breath caught in her throat, and she couldn't help the way she tipped her chin back just a little in response to it, heart pounding a tattoo against her ribs.

“You don't have to,” Lance said quietly when Shiro made no moves to lean down, “But I'm definitely not against it.”

“I want it,” Shiro said, her voice rough and fucked-out and Lance had to keep herself from fucking panting in response to it. She was already this affected and they'd only been kissing. She didn't dare let herself imagine what she'd sound like after sex. When Shiro continued speaking, Lance snapped out of her daze and met her gaze again, “It's just been a while.”

“As in, you'll go a bit loopy and suck me dry?” Lance managed nervously.

“No!” Shiro baulked, shaking her head rapidly, “I mean I'll, uh, probably come.”

“Oh,” Lance blinked, surprised, before a sneaky grin split her cheeks. She reach down to sooth a hand over the inside of Shiro's thigh, shrugging. “That sounds great. Fantastic, actually. Better than dying for sure.”

“A lot of things are better than dying,” Shiro said, rolling her eyes.

“Kidding, kidding!” Lance chuckled, looping her fingers through Shiro's belt loops to pull her flush against Lance's chest. “Will it hurt?”

“In a way.”

“Okay,” Lance said with a considering nod, then lifted her chin again purposefully, looking up at Shiro though her lashes coyly.

Shiro licked her lips, and her palms settled on Lance's hips before she rested fully against her, her weight locking Lance in place in the best way possible. She maintained eye contact until she was so close they couldn't look at each other, lips brushing over the sensitive skin of Lance's neck. Her neck bobbed as she swallowed against the careful scrape of teeth, and she shivered, leaning back so even more of that space was exposed.

Then, those wickedly sharp fangs pushed threateningly against her after a slick of tongue, pausing for a moment. Lance realised she was still asking for permission, so she nodded, revelling in the way they stayed flush to her throat in the movement.

“Do it,” she breathed.

Shiro bit down, and Lance arched up with a cry.

Everything spiralled away from her, because holy fuck it _did_ hurt. It felt exactly how you would imagine it – like a vampire had just sunk her _canines_ through layers of sensitive skin. She could feel her blood spilling out of the wound, escaping Shiro's mouth, and soaking into her t-shirt, sticking it to her chest.

All she was left with was the softness of Shiro's hands on her hips, and the sting of her teeth in her jugular. Teetering dangerously between outright pain and muddled pleasure for just a fraction of a moment before something _snapped_ inside of her.

Bliss.

Unequivocal, pure, mind-numbingly intense _bliss_. Any instinct Lance had once had to fight the threatening weight on her body fizzled out into a boneless perfection she never wanted to forget the feeling of. Shiro whined softly, lapping messily at the wounds as she slipped her teeth out of Lance's neck. She was grinding carelessly onto Lance's thigh. She didn't seem to have any inclination to relieve herself, just rocked gently along to the tempo of her tongue flickering out to catch any stray droplets.

Lance was keening high on every exhale, body being torn in two different directions – one half of her screamed ' _you're gonna die bitch_ ', while the other half whispered ' _you've never felt this good before_ '.

She shifted to she could rub her thigh up harder, and Shiro did the same with the leg that was settled between Lance's, groaning at the friction and sharp sensation of a tongue poking rudely into two gaping fuck-off holes in the side of her neck.

“F – feels good,” Lance gasped out, holding Shiro's head fast to her, not wanting to let go of whatever high they'd found together. “It feels really good.”

Shiro hummed in response before pushing back against Lance's hand so she could pull away, and Lance let out a grumpy noise because she _didn't want her to stop._ Like, at all. It occurred to her then, that was exactly _why_ Shiro stopped. It was a dangerous thing, to be so strung out on the fine line of pain-pleasure, especially when the one inflicting it had the capacity to actually kill you.

Blood was slicked around Shiro's mouth and dripped down her neck from her chin in what should have been a disgusting way but Lance always enjoyed The Vampire Diaries far more than a normal woman in her twenties ever should, so she was mostly just getting even more turned on.

Their hips rocked together rhythmically, and Shiro's hands drifted up to thumb at the marks she'd left which Lance could tell were already healing up. Huh. Magic vampire spit. Who knew, hey.

“How was it?” Lance asked with a smile, once her brain had stopped begging her to beg Shiro to just drain her dry.

Shiro moaned like she'd just taken a bite out of the best slice of pizza in the whole world, her eyes shuttering closed briefly. Her tongue darted out to swipe at the tacky blood around her mouth. “ _Incredible,”_ she sighed dreamily. 

“You're just saying that,” Lance laughed, shoving her lightly.

“Nope. You were right,” Shiro grinned with bloodstained teeth.“You, madam, are a total snack.”

“Not the whole meal?” Lance fluttered her lashes.

“The whole meal would involve you lying dead on the sofa so, no. Just a snack.”

“I'll take it,” Lance grinned, then licked her lips as he looked down at where they were still rutting awkwardly onto one another's fully clothed thighs.“What're we gonna do about these, then?”

“I'm sure you can think of something. I'd give you whatever the hell you want after that, Christ.”

Lance didn't miss a beat, “Fuck me. Eat me out. I really don't care how you do it at this point, just make me come.”

“Does it count as repaying the favour if I'm getting more out of it than you?”

“Shiro, I've had wet dreams _inside_ of wet dream about you between my thighs. It's high time you just fuckin' went to town.”

“That sounds complicated,” Shiro murmured, smirking as she pulled away. Lance wanted to drag her back, get in some more smooches before she was being fucked on that snarky tongue but when Shiro lowered herself down, the thoughts were chased away by heat fizzling through her veins. Shiro made short work of Lance's jeans, yanking them down along with her pants.

She pressed gentle kisses over the sensitive skin around the bite wounds, drawing a hiss from Lance because it was hot but also, y'know. _Ouch_. The sting was quickly chased away, though, because she slunk her way down over Lance's body, following the lines of her abs with wet kisses.

It was a slow, sensual build up.

The way Shiro left no patch of skin unattended was sending Lance's mind fucking reeling, because each new slick of tongue or press of lips had her boneless with want. If she thought she wanted Shiro to fuck her when she was drinking her blood, it was nothing compared to the way she felt right now.

It made her dizzy, how _ready_ she was in the face of Shiro's gentleness.

“Oh – oh, fuck, _Shiro_ ,” Lance whimpered. Shiro dragged her palms up to pinch at her nipples, soothing them with gentle caresses before catching them tightly between her thumbs and forefingers again. Panting, Lance arched up into the feeling.

She looked down at Shiro, blinking away the haze as she tracked the way Shiro licked her lips hungrily. Her face was still stained with blood and there was something so dangerously enticing about the whole thing. Lance didn't look into it too deeply. Right now her brain wasn't in any place to be navigating whether or not fucking a vampire was a moral grey area.

Shiro smirked, her eyes dark and shimmery as she pressed languid kisses the the flat planes of Lance's stomach. She held eye contact as she reached down with clever fingers, her smile widening at how wet Lance was. Rolling her fingers over Lance's clit as she dipped down further, dragging the sickness back up so she could swipe the pads of her fingers over her again more fluidly.

That first touch was always bliss, _always_. But with Shiro it was next. Goddamn. Level.

She knew exactly the places that made Lance gasp, that made her tense up or go lax against the pillows and played her until she was pushing her in the direction she wanted.

Alternating between different movements, all of which were pretty much the best thing ever, was building Lance up and not quite getting her there in equal measures. From the way Shiro's bottom lip was caught between her teeth, she knew that too.

Slowly, she started getting more repetitive in the ways she pressed against Lance, but kept her touches just this side of too light and ensured the slick tips of her fingers rested above Lance's clit instead of underneath where Lance knew the pleasure was more intense.

She wondered, distantly, if it could be considered teasing if Lance was actually getting off on the touches. They felt good but they just weren't enough.

“Shiro, please,” she breathed, wriggling down a little.

“Please what?” Shiro whispered, keeping up those maddening movements. “Tell me what you want.”

“Just – just make me come, please, _god_ , please,” Lance whined, bucked her hips down desperately because she didn't know how much more of those feather-light touches she could handle.

Shiro shushed her, reaching up to smooth a hand against her cheek, brushing her thumb under her eye and smearing wetness. God, Lance didn't even realise her eyes were watering. _Not_ crying. She refused to admit that she was crying. There was no way in hell she could live down crying during sex.

“Please,” Lance said, still crying. She cracked out a moan when Shiro rubbed her fingers more firmly to the underside of her clit, catching it in a rhythm that teetered on that perfect line between rough and slow.

Lance's voice crested higher and higher, until every other breath was coloured with high keens. Her thighs clamped tightly around Shiro's head as she shook, giving herself up to the pleasure because there was literally nothing left to do at this point but let Shiro take care of her, trust that she'd get her there and –

Shiro moved her hand away, brushing it comfortingly up Lance's thigh when she cried out in frustration from having her orgasm _right there_ but it being yanked out of reach at last minute.

“Shiro,” she bleated, shaking her head. _Now is not the time for edging you dick!_

“Lance,” Shiro echoed, her smile obvious just from her voice.

Lance looked down at her, accusatory, “You – you _said_ – ”

“Never said, darling. You asked, and I will deliver. Patience.”

“ _Screw_ patience,” Lance said, plaintive, smiling a little when Shiro laughed.

“Like you're not enjoying every second of this,” Shiro replied, quirking a brow. She continued those slow, sensual touches along the seam of Lance's thigh, trailing her fingers over the sensitive skin and making her twitch involuntarily at the teasing.

It was true, though. It was fucking fantastic but also Lance _hated_ it. She hated how close Shiro could get her, only to take it away at the last second but at the same time... the control she was exerting was confident and easy and nothing like any of the other girls Lance had been with. Shiro knew what her gameplan was and she was sticking to it with a patient enthusiasm that was for sure gonna make Lance scream at some point tonight. In the best was possible.

_Long live vampire sex._

“You ready again?” Shiro murmured, licking at the place where her fingers had been, adding another layer of sensation that made Lance light-headed, and she nodded because yeah. She was definitely ready.

This time, Shiro followed suit with her treatment of Lance's thighs and replaced the ministrations on Lance's clit with a fucking insane curl of her tongue. It was different, but still good. Wet and warm and less precise, it drugged Lance with a lazy sort of pleasure that didn't have her crying out sharply, but pulled out low, contended moans from deep within her chest.

Which each flickering movement of Shiro's tongue, Lance found heat zinging through her veins and curling her toes until the tension rolled out of her body, and all she could find it in herself to comit to was the lazy rutting of her hips against Shiro's face.

She sucked at Lance's clit, alternating between rolling her tongue against it hard and swirling it lightly just under the hood – Lance breathed out heavily, and breathed in deeply.

“I'm close – _ah_ , fuck, Shiro, Shiro, _Shiro_ ,” Lance urged her on, desperate for it. Shiro's name continued to tumble from her lips, closer to gospel or a prayer than an actual name at this point.

And again, just when she thought she was gonna show her mercy, she drew away from her, smacking her lips lewdly with a shit-eating grin that was going to haunt Lance's dreams in the most infuriating way possible for the _rest_ of her fucking life.

Lance panted, reaching down with sluggish movements to wind her fingers back into the shock of white hair in Shiro's forelock. She tugged at it, unable to verbalise what she wanted in any other way than whimpering out Shiro's name.

“You're doing so well for me, Lance,” Shiro said, her voice liquid fucking gold. “So well.”

“I wanna – I just wanna come,” Lance managed to get out, slurred but to the point.

“You will,” Shiro replied, “I promise it'll be so good for you.”

Lance nodded, obliging, trusting that Shiro would take her there eventually. “Okay,” she said meekly.

“I'm going to go again, sweetheart. This'll be the last one, I _promise_. Do you think you can handle it? Answer me honestly.”

Lance seriously considered the question. Could she? She'd never felt this vulnerable during sex before, never been so completely at another woman's mercy quite like this. But Shiro was making her feel so, so good and anything that would draw out this pleasure could only be a good thing, right?

“Yeah,” she said finally, nodding. “Just do it.”

Shiro groaned raggedly in approval. “You take it so well for me, _Christ,_ you're perfect.”

If Lance was in any place to be as chatty as she usually is, she'd snipe back a comment about Shiro being the perfect one. Instead, she settled for a soft sound of happiness for the sweet words that seemed to flow so freely from Shiro. They upturned something inside Lance's chest, leaving her raw and open and Shiro's for the taking however she wanted it. It was a new feeling, and Lance wanted to know what she could possibly give in return for sex this amazing.

Shiro didn't seem to be in any rush to come herself. But then again, Shiro had probably taken what she wanted from Lance when she drank her blood.

 _Fair's fair_ , Lance thought to herself.

Lance made a sound of quiet surprise when Shiro didn't move back towards her clit this time, but instead dipped two of her fingers inside. They slid in easily; Lance was wet and fucking ready for them like no tomorrow.

She fucked Lance on her fingers leisurely, crooking them and pressing them into her g-spot on every other thrust. This was an even slower build than before, and Shiro seemed content to take her time, humming happily whenever Lance moaned low and long for her.

Lance's back _ached_ from how hard it was arched off the bed, and she was vibrating with it by the time Shiro lowered her mouth to tongue at her clit again, curling it languorously in time to the pace of her fingers.

“Close?” Shiro purred, lifting her head for a moment so she could catch Lance's answer.

She seriously debated just lying so she could finally come, but there was something about the calculating glint to Shiro's eyes that said this was the game they were playing. If Lance lied, she had no doubt in her fucking mind Shiro would clock on in ten seconds flat and stop her from jizzing her brains out anyway. If she told the truth that yes, yes she was so close she could taste it, then Shiro would take it away from her but make it worth her while in the end.

The promise of finally finding release won out, and Lance nodded with a tiny inclination of her chin. “Yeah.”

“Like I said, sweetheart, this is the last one,” Shiro said, keeping up the steady beat of her fingers and ducking down to lick at her as well. Lance cried out, helpless, her fingers twisting uselessly in the sofa cushions.

“Close, _close_ , fuck, Shiro I'm – ”

And again, Shiro quickly moved away, and Lance was left fucking floating and strung out, and although it really did feel like the world was ending every time she lost out, this whole thing felt amazing. It was as though her pleasure was this one, long, continuous thing that ebbed and flowed and almost peaked but not _quite_.

The only thing keeping her going at this point was focusing on how incredible it would feel when Shiro finally took her there.

Lance realised, belatedly, that she was _really_ crying this time. Like, actually crying. Her mouth was running on its own, blurting out pure shite that was a garbled mess of Shiro's name and 'please' and 'I need it' and colourful swears that Lance was pretty sure she'd made half of them up.

“You sound _so good,_ darling,” Shiro groaned, rolling her forehead against Lance's inner thigh. “I think I owe you an orgasm.”

“Fuck you,” Lance wailed, and Shiro laughed, her shoulders shaking in her amusement.

She crawled up Lance's body, a smirk twisting her full lips and Lance made grabby hands for her, pulling her down into a messy kiss.

As she slicked her tongue against Shiro's, she whined impatiently, kicking at the back of her thigh with her heel repeatedly.

“Cute,” Shiro rolled her eyes when they parted.

“Let. Me. Come.” Lance punctuated each word with hard kisses to Shiro's lips.

“How could I say no to that face,” Shiro teased. Then her lips were at the unmarked side of Lance's throat and her fingers were back inside, three this time.

It was almost too much, the burn was definitely there but it wasn't painful, it just added another layer to the goddamn smorgasbord of sensation she was creating in Lance's body. And as her fingers continued to push up insistently into her, nailing her with startling accuracy Lance was struck with the realisation that _she was gonna come_.

Usually she couldn't from just being fingered, but there she was, there her rapidly approaching orgasm was, and there Shiro's wickedly clever fingers were.

It built up too quickly inside of her to warn Shiro what was happening, but she could probably feel it anyway with how Lance was clamping down on her, deliciously full and dazed on Shiro's tireless thrusts.

Sounds sketched out of her throat, noises that she was absolutely going to be embarrassed about later. Her legs shook violently where they were slung over Shiro's shoulders and she fisted her hands in Shiro's hair as her pleasure swelled in her gut.

She was writhing like crazy, moaning loudly and Shiro just kept on railing into her with these quiet, appreciative sounds.

Just when she thought she was about to scream with how intense and amazing Shiro's fingers felt inside of her, her voice caught in the back of her throat with a choked off whimper. Her orgasm ripped through her, leaving her silent and gasping for air as Shiro fucked her through it with a groan.

She only slowed her fingers when Lance mewled pathetically, the tension rolling out of her body and leaving her closer to a well-fucked semi-conscious blob rather than a human being.

Shiro pressed soft kisses up her neck, over her jaw, until she reached her mouth. Dipping her tongue between Lance's parted lips sensually, she moved so her strong thighs were splayed over Lance's hips, keeping her perfectly grounded as their mouths moulded together softly.

They parted after a long bout of slow kisses, and Lance sighed, letting her eyes drift shut.

“Holy fuck,” she croaked out, laughing quietly. Her throat was kind of scratchy. Shiro hummed, pecking her flushed cheek.

“Good?”

“More than,” Lance replied, opening her eyes. Shiro grinned widely in response, then moved quicker than Lance could have anticipated and she squealed in delight when she found herself hoisted up in Shiro's arms, clinging to her shoulders as she was princess carried up the stairs and thrown unceremoniously onto the bed.

Waggling her eyebrows, Lance crossed her legs coquettishly and smirked. “You going for round two?”

“In a way,” Shiro said carefully, and crawled up the bed towards her. Lance gulped. That was a sight she'd not forget in a hurry. Before Shiro could fully settle atop her body, Lance toppled the two of them over and sat on her stomach triumphantly.

Shiro just looked up at her, equal parts fond and exasperated when Lance said, “I've defeated the vampire!” then she paused, licking her lips. “I think I owe _you_ an orgasm.”

Surprisingly, Shiro's eyes flickered to the side nervously.

“You – you don't need to,” she said quickly.

“You don't wanna?”

“I, uh. Being fucked? Yes. But not right now,” Shiro said, her voice hesitant.

Lance peered down at her curiously. “Then what do you want?”

“I promise I'll be careful and I won't t – take too much but can I – ”

“Bite me again?” Lance interjected, and when Shiro nodded she giggled and swooped down to pepper her face in quick kisses. “Absolutely! You think you'll come from it?”

“It's literally the only thing I've been thinking about since you came.”

“I wondered why you were touching up my neck so much just then,” Lance cackled, the brushed her thumb against Shiro's lips. “Are those fangs I see, or are you just happy to see me?”

Shiro groaned, shaking her head with a smile. “You're an idiot.”

“Yeah, I really _suck_.”

“Lance.”

“One more, one more!” Lance begged, shooting her some hardcore puppy eyes.

A beat. “Fine.”

“If my boobs were a blood type, they'd be double As.”

“That doesn't even make sense,” Shiro frowned.

“Yeah, that was a poor effort. Carry on with whatever creature of the night stuff you wanted to be getting on with,” Lance shrugged, nonplussed. She allowed Shiro to roll her onto her back again, and was beginning to get a sense that Shiro liked her that way, splayed out and open as she pressed her body, still fully clothed, between Lance's legs.

“Would you prefer I use the same wounds, or make new ones?” Shiro asked, overly polite.

“New is fine,” Lance mumbled, remembering how great it had felt when the slicing pain had blurred the lines between hurting and feeling so good she was ready to ascend to a higher plane of existence.

Shiro growled quietly, pleased, and it sent heat right to Lance's gut.

“Please, Shiro, I want you to bite me,” she said, trying her best to sound as alluring as possible. It seemed to do the trick because in _seconds_ Shiro was on her, pinning her arms above her head with one hand clasped around her wrists, and the other moved to brush a stray curl of hair away from her neck.

This time, Lance knew what to expect and had prepared herself for the initial sting of it.

Her body tensed when Shiro sank her teeth in, shivering a little at the wet slurping sound of her retracting them again to suck greedily at the cuts.

The pleasure came quicker than before, and Lance was quick to hook her legs around Shiro's waist, her hands still pinned but wanting to express her pleasure in some way.

Shiro was groaning, her voice low and beautiful as she lapped up the blood. Lance could get used to the feeling of giving up – of being prey. It made her head spin that something so dangerous could make her feel so _safe_.

Shiro's hips rocked against Lance's body as she drank, increasing in speed as her sounds increased in volume until her mouth froze where it was latched onto her neck, and she cried out, open mouthed.

Lance could feel her blood spill messily out of the wound and over Shiro's lips, and when the grip on her wrists loosened, she reached up to cradle her in her arms gently, soothing the tension in her muscles with careful caresses.

“Good?” Lance asked, and Shiro smiled at the mirrored words.

“More than,” Shiro said quietly, slicking her tongue over the wounds to stop the bloodflow. She rolled onto her back, pulling Lance to her side. “Sleep time now.”

“We're both covered in blood, babe,” Lance said, vaguely grossed out now they weren't in the throes of the sexy vampire biting haze.

“Just shower in the morning,” Shiro mumbled.

“I thought you couldn't be in the sun,” Lance countered, and felt her shrug where her head was resting on her chest.

“Blackout curtains. Darling, please, _sleep_.”

Shiro's breathing evened out, but Lance was still buzzed.

“Hey, Shiro?” Lance wriggled so she could peek up as Shiro's dozing face.

“Mmm?” Shiro hummed, threading her fingers through the tangled mess of Lance's hair soothingly.

“If we broke up, who would be your necks victim?”

“Hey, Lance?” Shiro echoed, not opening her eyes.

“Hmm?”

“Shut up and _go to sleep_.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> if you enjoyed, please consider leaving kudos/a comment! :--)  
> you can find me on tumblr at [eatjamfast](eatjamfast.tumblr.com)
> 
> PSA: I'm blaming any and all typos on the cat, who recently decided my laptop is just a very expensive ass warmer for his perusal.


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